


Trust Me

by Amanthas



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Completed, Fluffy Ending, Other, POV Second Person, kinda fluffy?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 09:19:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4601433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amanthas/pseuds/Amanthas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You were hit by a storm bad enough to wreck your ship and send you drifting through the endless sea, certain you had finally met your end. Instead you are saved by a mysterious crew and a certain, arrogant, purple haired sailor who is far too interested in a story you don't want to tell. Even as you seek to evade constant questions, you find yourself forced to confront a past you can't hide from. With your heart and life on the line, you have to ask yourself: who can you trust?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shipwrecked

**Author's Note:**

> It's been almost three years since I last posted on here... I feel really old. Anyway, I have to apologize profusely to anyone who may be reading this who also happened to read some of my other fics (different fandom but you never know). I totally left you guys hanging for well... three years. I am so horrible :(  
> BUT THERE IS HOPE! I have already 100% finished this story. It is done! No cliff hangers. No giving up half way through. It's finished! No beta reader unfortunately, so there will be some grammar mistakes (sorry). I'm trying to bully my friend into editing it for me :)P 
> 
> This is based off of The Adventers of Sinbad. I imagine this story takes place after the Sasan arc but before the current ongoing arc.  
> Enjoy!

“Abandon ship!” Came a voice over the screams of the raging winds and terrified sailors, followed by the splash of bodies diving overboard. 

They were the smart ones.

You could see by the precarious tilt of the ship that she was one good push away from capsizing—and unfortunately that push was inevitable in this storm.

A wave that seemed to tower overheard broke not far from your position, sending a twenty-foot spray frothing over the ship. The seawater was everywhere, in your eyes, your nose, and your mouth. For a moment, you were almost worried you would drown in the spray alone. 

The water finally settled on the tilted deck and you spat salty ocean from your mouth and hurriedly tried to rub it from your bloodshot, stinging eyes. The large, heavy cargo your ship had been transporting had been shoved to left side of the ship, causing the already crippled vessel to lilt dangerously. Whoever had cried to abandon ship had it right, you realized.

A gigantic swell rocked the ship, sending you stumbling over the slick, sodden deck as you struggled your way to the railing where the life rafts had been lowered to the water. You reached for the railing when, with a roar like a furious dragon; another wave broke—this time directly on the ship.

You didn’t stand a butterfly’s chance. Your feet were swept out from under you and you went tumbling down the sloped deck, accumulating enough bruises to make you horribly sore in the morning—if you ever saw the morning. With a final tumble, you slammed against the corner of a crate. Something in your left arm suddenly felt inexplicably _wrong_. Glancing down, you saw your shoulder bone poking out from your shirt at a grotesque angle. You didn’t feel any pain though. The pain would come after, if you managed to survive.

Gritting your teeth and resigning yourself to having to survive this with only one good arm, you struggled to your feet and dashed madly up the deck where the side of the ship beckoned for your escape. You heard the mast groan overhead as the tip of the crows nest entered the raging sea. It was over, you knew. The ship had finally been pushed too far to one side. Capsizing was imminent. 

The railing ahead began to slope farther and farther up—like a bad dream where the goal was always tantalizingly out of reach. With a burst of strength born from desperation, you launched yourself to the railing and flew, with all your might, away from the drowning ship into the tumultuous sea.

 

The world was made of blue.  
Swirling blue-green specks of mineral above that glistened in the starlight, and deep blue beneath you so dark it looked to be a yawning pit straight to hell. Violent currents grabbed you and sent you tumbling through the endless blue until direction had no meaning. 

Sometimes you were caught for so long you were sure you would die, but somehow you always managed to claw your way back to the surface, gasping for breath. More often than not, you inhaled the briny sea around you and were sent, choking and flailing, back into the damnable blue depths.

Somewhere in the haze of motion, you saw lighting strike in the vast distance, illuminating the sinking hull of your broken vessel. You managed another breath before you were once again shoved under.

How long you struggled in the ocean’s clutches you couldn’t say. The world was just dark, crashing, tumbling, and terrifying. It may have been only minutes but it felt like days. You began to wonder if it was worth surfacing at all, only to be slammed back into this briny hell. But you kept fighting anyway. Nothing, not even exhaustion and fear, were enough to conquer your will to live. 

Finally, when all hope seemed lost and you were on the verge of losing consciousness, your head slammed into something. Grasping hands managed to find the edge and you pulled yourself onto a thick slab of wood—a broken part of a crate from your ship. Your upper half clung to the wood like a clam and you gripped the plank with what meager strength you had left. Then the world faded from hellish blue to a peaceful black…

 

You woke up in horrible pain. 

Everything hurt, but nothing could compare to the piercing agony that had once been a functioning shoulder. The storm had passed. Through sodden eyelids, you could see it was day. The waves had gone from vicious to playfully rough, slapping up against your board like spoiled children trying to play.

With every swell, you shoulder throbbed even more. To your horror you found you couldn’t move your left hand, not even to twitch a finger. Then again, you really couldn’t move at all. All you could do was drift on the wood, fading in and out of consciousness, aware only of your horrible pain. 

Eventually you became aware of something else too—your thirst. Last night you swallowed what seemed like galleons of seawater. Your lips were puffy and chap, your tongue swollen. You couldn’t even speak; every time you tried your brine-encrusted throat only produced silence. 

It was too cruel. You had braved the worst storm of your life, survived through the pain and danger, but now you would die alone and suffering in the endless ocean. Was this your fate? You wondered. Was this fair? What had you done in your life to deserve this? Was the world so cruel?

You swallowed, wincing in pain, and laid your head on the plank of wood, feeling bitter. _What a way to go_ … was the last coherent thought you had for a long time.

 

“Is she okay? She doesn’t look like she’s breathing…”

“Turn her on her side, maybe she’ll cough it out…”

Voices? No, that couldn’t be right. You were alone, dying in the sea. There weren’t any people besides you to speak. Maybe you should just go back, you thought dreamily. Go back to the nice, cool place where there was no pain or suffering, only peace…

“We’re losing her! Hey, you! Hey! Stay awake! Stay with me!”

Someone was slapping your sodden skin, forcing you back to consciousness. Why wouldn’t these people let you go? You thought with irritation. Couldn’t they see you were tired? 

“Hey! Stay awake! I know you’re tired, but you have to stay awake! Are you just going to give up like this? Don’t you want to live?”

The last words pierced you like a red-hot poker, sending shudders down your spine. Yes! Yes, you wanted to live! You hadn’t struggled so hard for so long, ending up on a disastrous voyage as you tried to escape a nation that hated you just to die now. Faces flashed through you mind, the faces of friends and foes alike. You wouldn’t die here. Not here.

Forcing your eyes open then was probably the single most difficult thing you had ever had to do. But you managed to do it, causing dried bits of brine to crumble from your eyelashes down your face when you blinked. You were on your side, on what appeared to be the swaying deck of a ship. Looming over you was the face of a boy, handsome enough to make you wonder if you were delusional. Another face entered your vision, a different boy, with shock white hair.

“Here, Sin, give her some water.”

The handsome boy with long purple hair placed a bottle at your lips and poured in fresh, cool water. You were too weak to swallow; instead it just ran on the deck. Opening your eyes had taken a burst of maniacal energy that had now abandoned you, leaving you with only a fading desire to live.

_I’m too exhausted_ , you realized. _These boys are too late. I can’t live anymore_. Coming to this conclusion, you slowly began to allow you eyes to shut.

“Don’t give up!” The voice pierced the fog of your mind and you opened your eyes to find the purple haired boy yelling at you, “don’t you dare give up!”

_No_ , you struggled with yourself, forcing your bruised and beaten body to breathe. You couldn’t— _wouldn’t_ —give up here. You wouldn’t let the bastards that wanted you dead get rid of you so easily. The bottle re-entered your vision and this time you managed to drink. 

The water went down your swollen throat, but as if this were a signal, the massive amounts of seawater you had consumed came up. You vomited water all over the deck, somewhat glad there had been no food to come up with it. You saw specks of blood mixed in from where your dry throat had cracked.

Eventually you managed to swallow some water. It felt good, running through you body and revitalizing your limbs—though not enough to be able to move from the deck.

With the revitalization of your body, however, came the pain. Suddenly it was crashing down on you like the waves you had barely survived, causing you to grit your teeth.

“What’s wrong?” Calloused hands gripped your face and you looked up into the features of the purple haired boy. 

“Shoulder…” You managed to gasp out.  
The boy frowned before gently flipping you over face up on the deck. Even just that movement caused you to scream in pain, breaking the dried skin in your throat and causing you to cough on your own blood.

“She’s choking, what do we do?” Came a panicked voice. Your head lolled to the side and a bit of blood trickled down the corner of your mouth, but you could breathe again.

“She’ll be fine, but we need to get this shoulder back in!” Came the purple haired boy’s voice. “Mystras, you hold her here and I’ll pull her wrist. Ready? On my count! One, two, THREE!” Hands tugged at your arm, causing you pain like you had never experienced before. Over your screams you heard loud swearing followed by, “Once more! Hold her tight; we can’t relocate it if she keeps moving. Ready? One, two, THREE!”

Thankfully, you blacked out.

 

When you woke up, for a moment you were tense, prepared for the horrible, hellish pain you had experienced before. To your surprise, however, you felt nothing. You shoulder was slightly sore and your body stiff, but otherwise you were fine.

Opening your eyes, you saw a lantern swinging on a chain overhead. You raised you head off a soft pillow to glance around. You were in a small room, barely more than a closet, with only a hammock, pillow, table, and chair for company. 

You were also very confused. 

For a moment you couldn’t remember where you were or why you were even still alive. Then you remembered the hands, voices, and blurry faces vague enough to have come from a dream.

Someone must have saved you, you realized.

After a moment, you gathered your strength and sat up, muscles screaming in protest. You looked down and saw you were wearing what must have been someone else’s shirt because it was far too big and ballooned down to your knees. Your left arm was tightly bound from elbow to shoulder and suspended in a sling across your chest. Your legs were bare, but after glancing around, you saw your pants folded on the chair.

It took you longer than you would have liked to change into your pants, partly because you were still on a swaying ship but also because you couldn’t use your left arm to change. You finally managed to pry on your pants after an awkward dance around the cabin and a few stubbed toes.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed open your cabin door and wandered out into the sunlight, curious to met your mysterious saviors.

What you saw, after your eyes adjusted, were four men playing cards on the deck of the ship. After a second of studying them, you revised your initial impression to a man and three boys. Glancing around you saw no crew but instead a…was that a dragon steering the ship?

You blinked again, wondering if you were hallucinating. No, that was definitely a dragon, standing on two legs and using his reptilian arms to steer the ship. Further thoughts were stalled when the purple haired boy glanced up from his cards and spotted you. For a moment he didn’t move. Then he grinned—a wide, huge, cocky grin—and threw down his cards as he stood up.

“Look who’s awake,” He called as he strode towards you, “how do you feel?”

“I—” you started to say before your voice broke and you started coughing. Whether it was just the sudden coughing fit, the lack of food and water, the sudden exposure to sun, the rocking of the ship, or a combination thereof, you felt your balance give and you started to fall. He caught you before you hit the deck, gently holding your good arm and supporting you with his shoulder. 

“Are you alright?” He asked once the coughing died down. You nodded and tried to speak, only to find no words came out. 

“Here,” a red haired boy with a turban handed you a skein of water and you gulped it down greedily, not caring that some of it trickled down the side of your face.

“Careful with that, take it slow,” the purple haired boy warned. “Too much at once and you’ll feel sick again.”

You nodded, stoppered the bottle and handed it back to the red haired boy. “Thanks.” You smiled slightly, glad your voice was back. “Thank you,” you directed your comment to the purple haired boy, who was still supporting you. “I feel fine now.” You politely disengaged yourself from the boy—who looked put out—and then bowed low to the other people who had gathered in a semi circle around you, curiosity staining their faces. “Thank you, all of you, for saving my life. I owe you an irreparable debt.” You bowed again.

“There’s no need to push yourself to thank us,” the purple haired boy replied easily, still hovering nearby in case you started to collapse again, “We only did what any self-respecting human would do. I’m Sinbad, by the way. What’s your name?”

“I’m…” you went to respond before suddenly hesitating, the question finally hitting you. You weren’t the average sailor. You were a fugitive from a nation that hated you and would stop at nothing to kill you. You suddenly viewed the people around you wearily, aware of your vulnerable state. You had no idea who these people were, or what side they may be on, if they were on a side. Giving your name to them could be a stupid and lethal mistake. But the question wasn’t the kind of question that was easily avoided, moreover, the purple haired boy, Sinbad, was beginning to look at you strangely. You hastily decided to give only your first name, reasoning that it would be unlikely to give you away.

“It’s a pleasure to met you, Sinbad,” You said after giving your name. 

“The pleasure is all mine,” Sinbad replied with such a flirtatious smile it would have a made a frailer maiden blush. You just cocked an eyebrow and smiled back, restraining any comments. He _had_ saved your life, after all.

You soon learned the names of the small crew onboard: the white haired boy, Ja’far, the red head, Mystras, the gigantic blue haired man Hinahoho, and the dragonish helmsman, Drakon. 

“It’s a pleasure to met you,” you told Drakon, who was introduced last, and extended your hand to shake. He looked surprised but shook your hand.

Sinbad and the others looked on in vague surprise. You realized that acting unsurprised despite Drakon’s odd appearance might have been far more attention-worthy than your slight hesitation at giving your name.

“You don’t seem surprised by my appearance, have you met someone like me before?” You glanced up at Drakon quickly and then shook your head.

“No,” you lied smoothly, “but you will have to excuse me for my lack of reaction. I was just on a sinking ship and spent days adrift in a stormy sea with a dislocated shoulder. I still feel a bit… disconnected at the moment. I’m not entirely sure if I’m truly alive or if this is all a dream.”

Sinbad laughed, flashing a pearly white grin, “You’re alive. I promise,” he smiled at you and you smiled back sincerely this time, admiring his golden eyes.  
You’d never seen a person with eyes or hair like his before.

The red haired boy with the turban, Mystras, came up from below deck during this exchange holding plates of steaming food. Your mouth watered and you realized how hungry you were.

“I think we should feed her before we interrogate her,” Mystras said with a slight blush in your direction. You mentally blessed him in all three languages you knew. Sinbad scowled at Mystras before proffering you a chair. You thanked him and sat while Ja’far cleaned off the remainder of the card game from the table.

Sinbad called after him, “Don’t loose the score sheet! We can continue playing after dinner.”

Hinahoho snorted. “You can. I’m tired of loosing all of my money to you.”

“Come on, don’t be like that,” Sinbad teased him, “I wasn’t even trying that hard.” He sent a mischievous wink in your direction.

 

You munched contentedly on a brightly colored fruit, leaning back in your chair. The meal of seared fish and vegetables, while simple, had been delicious. Food and water had never tasted so good. Your recent death defying experience had certainly cast a new appreciation on the simple pleasures in life.

“So where are you from?” Asked Ja’far, breaking the content silence. You smiled disarmingly, already prepared with your lie.

“I’m from the Se’ean Empire out west,” you lied. “But I don’t stay home much. I like to travel and I like the sea—although I can’t say if the sea likes me,” you added wryly, earning a small chuckle from around the table. “But recently I’ve been getting into the trading business. I was with a new company transporting cargo between Reim and the Adraine Kingdom when the storm hit us. The ship capsized and I ended up alone in the waves. I came across a broken piece of cargo and climbed onto it before passing out. That’s about all I can remember—I don’t know if the rest of the crew survived or not.” You were proud that only half of your story was a lie. In your experience, truth mixed in with lies usually made the lies more convincing. 

“I see,” Sinbad said with a slight frown, looking a little less convinced than you would have hoped. “It’s been a rough journey for you then.”

“Undoubtedly,” you sighed, picking up another fruit and rolling it around in your palms. “I never expected this to happen.” 

At least that was totally honest. 

 

You went to bed early. Your hosts didn’t seem to mind; they wished you good night and promised to try to find you a better fitting shirt the next day so you didn’t have to keep borrowing Sinbad’s spare one (apparently your own shirt had been cut off you when you were rescued in order to fix your shoulder.) You doubted they would find a shirt that fit much better, however. Sinbad was probably the closest to your size. 

Before retiring to bed, you managed to learn a bit more about your hosts. They were merchants with a new company you hadn’t heard of, the Sindria Trading Company, and they all seemed to be kind, welcoming, if slightly flirtatious people. Capable though, if you were any judge of people. They all looked like they knew how to handle themselves in a fight. 

You also managed to get a time frame for yourself. You learned that you had been found two days after the storm and had been unconscious for a week after that. Nine days in total, since your escape from the Adraine Kingdom. You wondered if any would-be assassins had found the ruins of your old ship and were scouring the sea for your corpse right now. It amused you think of your enemies wasting their time in such a fruitless endeavor, but you doubted that they would bother. Once the wreckage or survivors of the ship were found and the Adraine government had confirmed your presence onboard the doomed vessel, you would be declared dead. 

It seemed that the storm that should have been your undoing was instead your salvation.

You glanced up at the lantern above you, watching the mesmerizing flame as it danced in sync with the rise and fall of the swells beneath the ship. You had collapsed in your bed not long after dinner and slept for what you guessed had been a few hours, so you assumed it was late at night. You could hear someone snoring in the cabin next to yours, which made you suppress a smile. 

Suddenly the cabin seemed too small. You tossed and turned in the hammock, unable to find a comfortable position for your shoulder. Rolling off your hammock, you slipped out for some air. You couldn’t stay in that cramped room any longer.

You made your way over to the railing and leaned against it, breathing in the moist evening air. Looking up, you saw a big and bright moon that turned the whispering waves liquid silver. As you admired the view, a voice spoke up behind you, “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

You turned, startled, wondering just who managed to sneak up on you. The grinning face of Sinbad greeted you.

“Yes, it is,” You agreed shortly before turning back around, not feeling like talking and hoping he would take the hint to walk away. What was he doing up so late at night anyway?

“Why didn’t you tell us your last name?” The question came so suddenly that you nearly gave a reply you would have regretted.

“I-I don’t have one,” you stuttered your way through the first lie you thought of, and then winced. The lie sounded obvious even to you.

“Really.” Sinbad voiced a sarcastic reply. You sighed.

“What’s it matter anyway? Why should you care about my last name?”

“No reason actually,” came Sinbad’s answer. He faced you, staring you dead in the eyes with his brilliant gold gaze. “I don’t care about your last name. I’m more curious as to why you felt the need to hide it in the first place.”

“I’m not hiding anything,” you denied coolly. If he wanted to fish for information, you weren’t going to rise to his bait. Anything he got from you would have to be hard won.

‘So your story about being a traveling merchant from Se’ean is all true then?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” You countered.

He glared at you, exasperated, “Do you always answer a question with a question?” He demanded. You just grinned. 

“Don’t you do that too?”

Before he could reply, you bowed to him slightly and tore yourself away from the railing. “Good night, Sinbad.” It was only a temporary retreat and you both knew it. There weren’t very many placed you could avoid interrogation on a ship. Eventually these were questions you would have to answer. But you would rather deal with that later rather than sooner. Sinbad caught your arm, slid his grip down to your wrist, and leaned down slightly to brush his lips against the back of your hand. 

“Good night.”

A blush rose on your cheeks and you had to resist the urge to smack him before you stomped over to your cabin. Apparently he didn’t view you as enough of a threat to stop teasing you. As you climbed into your hammock, you swore you could hear him softly laughing at you over the sound of the restless sea.

 

EXTRA: On the Ship To Reim

You were sulking in your cabin. Of course, you preferred to think of it with a more dignified term than _sulking_ ; you told yourself you were _pondering angry thoughts in solitude_. Another acceptable word to describe your situation would be _hiding_. After Sinbad’s behavior last night, you had holed yourself up in your cabin and silently vowed to never come out while he was on deck. Only three hours after you woke up in the morning, you were already starting to feel stir crazy.

The worst part was that there was nothing to do. You had no paper or pencils to draw with, no books to read, not even cards to play with. The only entertainment available was the other passengers and they were out of the question.

A knock sounded at your door. You glanced up, surprised. “Come in,” you spoke before reconsidering. What if it was Sinbad? The door opened and you breathed a mental sigh of relief when you saw red hair instead of purple. You smiled at the boy politely, sitting up straight on your bed. “What can I do for you?”

“Actually, I brought you breakfast,” the boy told you, a slight red blush on his face. He held out a tray of food like a peace offering. You stomach growled and you suddenly realized how hungry you were.

“Thank you, uh…” you trailed off, unable to remember his name. Yesterday had been so hectic, you had failed to recall the name of anyone onboard besides Sinbad. Then you felt guilty. Why was it you could remember the name of that purple haired flirt but you couldn’t remember this boy’s name?

“Mystras,” he didn’t seem to hold it against you, instead giving you a warm smile, clutching at a bag around his shoulder. “My name’s Mystras. It’s nice to meet you. Could you repeat your name?” He blushed again, scratching the back of his head ashamedly. “I can’t quite remember…”

You took the tray from him and smiled back, glad you weren’t the only one who had trouble with names. You gave your name and began to inhale your food. It was a simple meal: oatmeal, bread, eggs, and fruit which you occasionally washed down with fresh water.

Mystras watched you with a concerned expression on his face. “If you eat it that fast you’re going to cho—”

As if his words were a signal, you suddenly began to choke on your bread, tears popping into your eyes. He hurriedly slapped you on the back, making your shoulder groan in pain, until you managed to swallow the piece of bread.

“Thanks,” You whispered hoarsely between coughs. He just shook his head, looking torn between amusement and concern.

“The food isn’t going to grow legs and run,” he teased you gently, “so you can take your time.”

You took another bite of your eggs, eating carefully now. You had no desire to kill yourself because you were too greedy to chew on your food. You swallowed, sighing in delight as you finished the last bite.

“That was delicious,” you praised the unknown cook before setting the tray off to the side. 

“It was okay,” Mystras said with a humble shrug, coloring up a little, “I only have a few ingredients.” You suddenly realized that you had eaten your food without offering him any. Mystras read the guilty look on your face and shook his head slightly, “Sinbad, Ja’far, Hinahoho, Drakon, and I ate in the mess,” he explained. “When you didn’t show up I decided to take a plate to you.”

“Thanks,” you replied automatically, your thoughts drifting back to the night before. “At least _someone_ on this ship is a gentleman,” you muttered under your breath.

Mystras laughed and you flushed, realizing he must have heard you. “Are you talking about Sinbad? You know,” he mused, looking at you intently, “you two are a lot alike.”

You stared at him, flabbergasted. “What?!” You demanded in a harsher tone than you had expected. Mystras winced and raised his hands as if to ward off your scorn.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that! I only meant that you two are both stubborn and prideful and smart. And you both,” here he gave you a meaningful look, “dislike asking people for help.”

You sighed, shifting uncomfortably on your hammock. You liked Mystras a lot more than you liked Sinbad, but you still didn’t want to tell him the truth. You had lived with lies for so long that they had become second nature to you; you could barely remember a time when you had been honest and upfront about everything. Besides that, you couldn’t trust these people yet. You barely knew each other.

“Look, Mystras—” You began, trying to let him down gently. He raised a hand, cutting you off. 

“You don’t need to tell me now,” he said with a smile, “but when you _do_ need to tell someone and if there’s no one else around…” he cleared his throat, looking away in embarrassment, “I’ll be happy to listen.”

If it had been Sinbad or anyone else, you probably would have gotten angry. You would have told them if was none of their business and that they should stay out of your life. But Mystras sounded so sincere and genuine, like a true knight, and you found your heart melting despite yourself.

“Thank you, Mystras,” you gave him a tender smile, wondering why he made you feel like such a softie, “I really appreciate it.”

“Well,” he scratched his head again, which made you smile. It was such an adorable habit. “This is a small ship and all, so I’d like to get along.” He grinned at you—a wide, innocent grin that practically had you swooning.

Damn it. He was too adorable.

“By the way,” he pulled a book out from his bag and offered it to you. “it gets kinda boring around here so I brought you a book.”

“That’s so sweet!” You gushed, taking the book with eager fingers. It had been such a long time since you had read something, you were brimming with scholarly excitement. “Thanks Mystras!”

You examined the title and then blinked. You re-read it, just to be sure. No, you weren’t wrong. It definitely said _The Adventures of Sinbad_. “Uh…”

“Sorry,” he sighed, “it was the only book we had on board. Sinbad published some of his adventures to make money for the company a while back, although he exaggerated a few bits. We still had this copy onboard.”

“What a narcissist.”

Mystras laughed again. “Maybe. But it made him famous and it kept the company from going bankrupt. Anyway,” he blushed again, gesturing to the door. “I’ll be on deck playing poker with Drakon, Ja’far and Hinahoho if you want to join us.”

“I don’t play cards very well,” you said apologetically. Then you frowned and tapped the name written on the cover of the book, “Wait, what about Sinbad? Doesn’t he like playing cards?” 

Mystras snorted, “We don’t let him play anything involving money anymore,” he explained with a wry grin, “it completely unfair for the rest of us.”

“Why? Does he cheat?”

“No,” Mystras denied, vehemently shaking his head back and forth, “he just has a ridiculous amount of good luck. I’ll leave you with your book now,” he gave you one last smile before picking up the empty tray and heading toward the door. You felt a sudden desire to pull him back and ask him to stay. After days spent alone in the ocean and then sequestered in your cabin, you were feeling starved for human contact. Besides which, Mystras was friendly and companionable and you had a soft spot for people like him. But you pulled yourself back because you had already caused him enough trouble. 

“Oh yeah,” he turned in the doorway, “lunch is at noon, if you want to eat with the rest of us.”

He didn’t say it in a nasty way but you felt guilty all the same. You shouldn’t force your hosts to bring you meals like they were servants. “I’d like that,” you replied, somewhat surprised to realize you meant it.

After Mystras left, you sunk back into your hammock, flipping to a random page in Sinbad’s book. “…then Ja’far grew horns and breathed fire, killing the guardian and mercilessly melting the dungeon door at the same time,” you read aloud. You stared at the sentence. “I think this qualifies as more than just _a bit_ of exaggeration, Mystras,” you muttered.


	2. Reim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You gave up with a sigh. You really didn’t have much of a choice.  
> “Deal.”  
> You took his proffered hand and shook it, feeling like you had just made a deal with the devil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I am trying to rediscover how I did my formatting for my stories. It might look a little wonky at first, I'm trying to figure it out :)P  
> Anyway here is the second chapter! I think I'm going to split this into 9 parts. Some are going to be longer but I will try to keep them about the same.  
> Enjoy!

You could see a lighthouse in the distance, framed by the rising sun. It signaled your entrance into the Reim Empire and soon, your escape from the constant questions from your companions.

You actually had managed to escape to Reim. More than that, you managed to escape without having to spill your life story to Sinbad and the others. It had taken a week after your discussion with Sinbad to reach Reim, but you had spent most of the time in your cabin, claiming to be ill. It was actually only a partial lie; you really had been weak from your days of dehydration and starvation adrift in the ocean. 

Right now, however, you were standing on the slick deck still wearing Sinbad’s spare shirt, watching your destination grow closer. There had been points in time where you had never thought you would survive, you reflected. And yet here you stood. Could your miraculous survival be attributed to fate? Or was it just coincidence and luck? 

Either way, you were determined to survive. 

You heard footsteps behind you and turned your head to see Sinbad standing beside you, gazing out at the rocky shoreline of Reim. You could make out the dock now. Ships that looked like the miniature toys children set out to sail on ponds glided proudly through the green waters, some heading into port, some sailing out into the wide sea. You wondered sadly how many of those ships would ever come back.

“We’re finally back,” Sinbad sighed happily. You faced him, tucking your hair behind your ear. The wind nipped at your stray hairs, fluttering them around your face. 

“Did you miss Reim?"

“It’s a nice country,” Sinbad replied easily. “I’ve made my fortunes here and I’ve fond memories of some of the cities. Besides, the main headquarters of the Sindria Trading Company are here.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” You asked, confused. Headquarters were usually locations of convenience, not luxury. Most of them were positioned along busy roads, so the traffic and noise levels were high. The smaller, less profitable companies were also mostly positioned in lower class neighborhoods where crimes were committed more often. Trading headquarters had never struck you as comfortable places to stay.

“It’s our headquarters,” Sinbad replied as if the answer were obvious. “It’s where everyone can work and live together. It may be small for now, but it’s one step closer to our dream. It’s our home.”

The words were simple enough, but they struck you as powerful. You turned back to the sea, focusing on the lighthouse and blaming the wind for the tears that formed in your eyes. Home. You would never see your home again nor wallow in the comfort of the familiar. Before this moment, the reality of your situation had escaped you. You had been so concerned with just survival that you hadn’t had the time to think about your home. But now, in this moment of peace, you realized how much you missed your home nation. 

“Where do you plan on going?” 

The question tore you from your lonely thoughts and you hurriedly blinked away your tears. “North,” you replied once you had calmed down enough to keep your voice level. “I plan on staying at an Inn for a few days near the port. I can use that time to wander around the markets and find any hiring caravans heading north. That way I can make some money and still travel.”

“What about the company you joined?” 

For a second you stared at Sinbad, stumped. What company? Then you silently cursed yourself a fool, realizing what he meant. You had told him that you were part of a new trading company, trying to sell goods in Reim. If that were true, you wouldn’t be jumping on the first caravan you saw. 

“Oh, well…” You coughed awkwardly, trying to cover your mistake. “I said it was a company but we still hadn’t gotten certified in Reim yet. Everyone else probably…. d-drowned when the ship sank, and we lost all of our cargo. There’s really nothing for me in Reim.”

That wasn’t a bad lie considering you had momentarily forgotten about your supposed back-story. You were glad you would be getting off of this ship today. Sinbad and the others were too sharp for comfort.

“You said you were going to stay at an Inn?” Sinbad asked in a curiously innocent voice. You nodded slowly, sensing a trap but unsure of how to avoid it. “But didn’t you lose all your money when the ship sank?”

Damn. There was that. 

“I, uh, well…” You stumbled around for the right words, but your mind had gone completely blank. Your glib tongue had finally deserted you, partially because you had honestly forgotten about loosing all your money. Your plan had been built around a fundamental flaw but you hadn’t even realized it. Sinbad smirked at you, clearly enjoying your flustered expression. 

“I, uh, will try to find an Inn that will let me work for a room,” you finally managed to say.

“What if you can’t find one?” Sinbad was pressuring you with his brilliant golden eyes. 

“I’ll camp,” you snapped back, annoyed that he had gotten the better of you in this exchange. “I’ve done it before.”

To your surprise, Sinbad frowned as if something you said had disagreed with him. “What?” You asked, suddenly fearing he would ask you to pay for your journey aboard his ship. Surely, he wouldn’t be so cruel as to ask a shipwrecked woman to pay for being rescued.

“I can’t let a young woman camp by herself,” Sinbad replied, completely destroying your expectations. “Especially not near the docks.”

It was true that the docks were usually rowdy neighborhoods. There were lots of sailors with pockets full of shares and taverns full of thieves. You knew you could handle yourself, but as flirtatious and irresponsible as Sinbad seemed, you also knew he would never place you in a situation where you had to. A small part of your heart warmed at the realization. Whatever his faults, he was certainly a gentleman. 

“Stay at the Sindria Trading Company.” He turned to face you and gently gripped your hand, a confident smile on his face like he already knew your answer. “I can’t allow a lady like you to get hurt.”

Your newly found warm feelings for Sinbad vanished as quickly as they came. Was this all a ploy to question you further? Did he really want to know who you were that badly? You opened your mouth to tell him to mind his own business when you reconsidered. Whatever his motives, you needed a place to stay. And you doubted he would care enough about your past to offer you a room if you didn’t need it. Still…

“I don’t need your charity,” you replied stiffly, yanking your hand away. He raised an eyebrow.

“Who said you could stay for free?”

Suddenly you found yourself tongue-tied. You had assumed he meant for free, since you didn’t have any money. “I-I don’t have anything…”

“You can work for me,” Sinbad offered with a shark-like smile. “Judging from your extensive vocabulary and grammar, you probably know how to read and write well.” You nodded, struck dumb. “And I can always use someone like that to help out with paperwork,” he continued. “So? Do we have a deal?”

You stared at him. Why did you feel that he had just conned you into working for him for free? Why was it that your gut instincts warned you that you were being played? Then again, did you really have any choice? Sinbad grinned at you, clearing aware of your internal struggle. You gave up with a sigh. You really didn’t have much of a choice.

“Deal.”

You took his proffered hand and shook it, feeling like you had just made a deal with the devil. As you let go and turned back to Reim, Sinbad leaned in close and whispered in your ear, “Besides, you’re only borrowing my shirt; I need it back eventually.”

Sinbad’s POV 

There was something about a dock. 

It was always in a flurry of motion and color. People were hurrying to and fro, carrying crates filled with everything from fresh fruits and goods to live animals. The smell of sea and spices filled the air, and he could hear multiple dialects being spoken simultaneously, resulting in a jabbering mess that rang in the ears. 

Here also, was the heart of business. Ships coming in, carrying new stocks for merchant’s shelves and ships going out, hoping to make a profit on the goods they were transporting. He could see stalls set up behind the docks where people always swarmed in mobs of brightly colored cloth, bargaining and haranguing with the sellers to get the cheapest price. He could always tell by the faces of the people he passed who had made a good deal and who had been swindled. 

In the middle of all this chaos, his own ship was brought into the docks and his goods loaded onto the waiting wagons. He and his other companions had decided not to ride the wagons back but elected to walk instead. As much as he loved ships and the sea, it annoyed him that it took a little time before he could stand properly on land once he got off a boat. He knew it wasn’t just him; everyone else was waddling oddly too. He caught your elbow as you stumbled, nearly falling. You muttered your thanks, looking up at him with your big, beautiful eyes 

You.

When he had first seen you, he had been stunned. It had been an average morning and he had been relaxing on deck, enjoying the sun, when he had spotted an odd shape in the water. Careful observation had shown him it was a human lying on a plank of wood, half in and half out of the water.

Hinahoho had dragged you aboard and when he had carefully lain you down, Sinbad had marveled at how beautiful you were. He compared you to one of the mermaids from the old stories his mom used to read to him as a child—a beautiful maiden from the sea with kelp in her hair. 

Once you had woken up and recovered from your injuries, he had quickly realized that your beauty was the least of your charming characteristics. You were quick-witted, stubborn, prideful, and independent, the type of woman he would have to chase after to have. Even after a week of chasing, you still seemed immune to his charms, which only charmed _him_ more. 

But more than anything else, you were mysterious. Your story about your past may not have been a complete lie, but there were definitely things you were hiding. He doubted, for instance, that you were part of a trading company. Whatever you had been doing on that ship when it sank, it wasn’t trading. He also doubted you were natively from Se’ean. You probably had been there before because you knew the language and customs, but you didn’t seem up-to-date with Se’ean events. More than anything, he was curious about your relationship with the Adraine Kingdom. You had only mentioned it briefly, but the look of pain that had crossed your face when you spoke the name led him to believe that you had suffered in Adraine. 

What you had suffered and why you were hiding it were unknown. 

“Sinbad.” A familiar voice jolted him out of his reverie. He glanced back at his trusted friend, Ja’far. The white haired boy was gesturing for him to pause. The rest of the group hesitated until he waved them forward. You stared at him for a moment, biting your lip as you looked at Ja’far, then at him, then back to Ja’far. You probably had the same feeling he did: that whatever Ja’far wanted to discuss, you were involved. 

Sinbad spoke your name, savoring the word on his tongue. “Go ahead,” he waved you forward, not breaking eye contact with you. You paused. He could see you struggling with whether or not to defy the order. Pride waged against obedience. Then your shoulders slumped and he saw obedience win. 

He still waited until you were out of earshot before giving Ja’far a curious look. Ja’far didn’t waste his breath but got straight to the point.

“Sinbad, why are you asking such a suspicious person to work for the company?” Ja’far glared at him. “She’s clearly hiding something.”

“Obviously,” Sinbad agreed, glancing at your back. “But I don’t think she’s a bad person. Whatever is troubling her, I know we can help—”

“It’s none of our business!” Ja’far broke in with a look that clearly said, _shouldn’t you know not to interfere by now?_ “Besides, the company isn’t growing as fast as you’re picking up strays. She can’t stay for free, the budget can’t support it.” 

“She won’t,” Sinbad snapped, insulted that Ja’far would insinuate he didn’t understand the company’s budget. “She’ll work for her room and meals. You can tell just from talking to her that she’s well educated, and you’ve been complaining about how much paperwork needs to get done. She can be your assistant.”

Ja’far raised an eyebrow. “I might not _need_ an assistant if _someone else_ didn’t keep ignoring their paperwork and wandering off.” Sinbad decided to ignore the jib directed at him. Mostly because it was absolutely true. 

“Ja’far, I started this company in order to help the people who need my aid. I don’t want to just help a handful of people either. I want to help a _country_ full. I want the company to expand to the point where I can accept anyone at anytime if they need my help. She needs my help, even if she’s too stubborn to admit it.” Sinbad paused, weighing his next words carefully. He could tell Ja’far was wavering, Sinbad just needed to give him one extra push. “Helping those who need it and establishing a fair country—isn’t that our dream?”

Ja’far sighed and Sinbad knew he had won. 

“Fine, Sin. I’ll take her on as an assistant.”

Sinbad grinned and slapped Ja’far on the back, enjoying his victory. There was nothing quite so pleasing as winning a gamble. Ja’far began walking once again, catching up with the group who were paused halfway down the road, waiting for them. 

“But you haven’t fooled me,” Ja’far suddenly called over his shoulder. Sinbad paused, staring at his old friend in surprise. “The real reason you invited her into the company is because you think she’s pretty.” Ja’far turned back around and continued walking.

Sinbad followed, unable to suppress a grin. He couldn’t deny that.


	3. The Market

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So I realized I hadn't uploaded in a while. I've been so busy with all this school work :( So I barely edited this beyond what I had already done. There's probably a few grammar mistakes... sorry guys. Anyway I hope you all are enjoying this! Feedback is always appreciated :)  
> Comments/questions/complaints?  
> Enjoy!

Your POV

You were already badly shaken before Ja’far pulled Sinbad from the rest of group to gossip about you. 

When your ship had docked in the harbor and you had finally found yourself on stable land once again, you had thought you might weep for joy. After your experience in the storm, you had on several occasions woken from nightmares about drowning. You hoped the dreams would stop once you were safe on solid rock. 

As you stretched your sore limbs, you noticed something that you had missed before. A small lifeboat was anchored at one of piers, drifting up and down with the gentle harbor swells. Excitement, hope, fear, and adrenaline swirled through you like the ocean tides, leaving your entire body feeling shaky and hollow, as if you had suddenly contracted the flu. You could barely focus on what the rest of the group was doing. You simply followed along after them like a shadow, not noticing the excitement of the colorful dock or the various goods for sale. 

That lifeboat was one of the lifeboats from the ship you had been on.

Someone else had survived.

That thought sent shivers of trepidation through you. But who? Could it be one of the four loyal subordinates that had followed you into exile? You hadn’t allowed yourself to contemplate their survival; after all, you had only been saved by luck. The chances of them being picked up by another vessel were extremely unlikely, and even if they had managed to get on one of the lifeboats, the storm had knocked the ship off course. Without any supplies, it was unlikely anyone would survive to make it to shore. 

But someone had beaten the odds, like you. Someone was here. Logic told you that it would probably be one of the twenty odd crewmembers that had been aboard, but your heart couldn’t help but hope one of your friends had survived.   
You were so wrapped up in your thoughts, you failed to notice a loose stone in road. You toe caught the edge and you stumbled, flying back to reality in time to see you were about to fall over. A warm, calloused hand caught your right shoulder and pulled you back up. You saw Sinbad frowning at you, his beautiful golden eyes shining with concern. Before either of you could say much, Ja’far spoke from behind, “Sinbad.”

The handsome boy turned, leaving you uncertainly paused. You had the sneaking suspicion that they were going to talk about you, but you were unsure how you should feel about it. Should you be indignant? Demand they tell you their concerns to your face? Then again, you hadn’t been open and honest with them, why should they be with you? 

You heard your name. Pulling yourself back to reality once more, you saw Sinbad looking at you, no longer smiling or concerned but focused. His eyes burned with an intensity you couldn’t ignore and you found yourself trapped in his amber gaze. “Go ahead,” he ordered. It was the first time he had given you an order and you found yourself wanting to defy it on principle. But his golden gaze silently warned you not to test him. You hesitated before realizing how silly you were acting. It was a perfectly reasonable command. You had no reason to defy him.

Slowly, you turned around and trudged forward, heading back to the group who had paused a polite distance away. 

“Are you okay?” Mystras asked, giving you a concerned look. You had tried your best to avoid everyone on the ship, but Mystras was something of a soft spot for you. He was just so…adorable. He had the personality of a life sized stuffed teddy bear. 

“I’m fine,” you waylaid his concern with the kind of gentle smile you would never show Sinbad in a million years. 

“Are you sure? You look pale. Does your shoulder hurt?”

Your shoulder was still bandaged, although you had let it out of its sling yesterday. “No, my shoulder’s fine. I’m just…” You trailed off, thinking about all the problems hounding your life right now. You were worried about who else had survived the trip from Adraine. What if the Kingdom learned that you too, had survived? Would they still continue to pursue you, despite you having crossed the sea into Reim? Also, what if Ja’far convinced Sinbad not to let you in the company? You had said you were fine with camping, but now the one thing you wanted most in the world was a bath and bed. 

“Tired,” you finally supplied, realizing you needed to finish your sentence. “I’m just tired.” Mystras accepted the lie, which you were grateful for. Then you realized that it hadn’t really been much of a lie. You couldn’t remember the last time you had been this bone deep tired.

 

Needless to say, a welcome back party wasn’t exactly what you had been expecting.

The entire company turned out to welcome home their famous leader and his friends. Drinks and snacks were distributed while good-natured chatter broke out around the room. People sat on crates filled with goods or kegs of ale, or leaned against the walls, holding their plates and gossiping with their neighbors. There was no distinguishing difference between ranks in the company. Everyone was constantly getting up and moving to join another group or refill their ale. Sinbad seemed to be everywhere at once, constantly flirting with what seemed like every girl at the party.

You leaned against the wall in the corner, feeling awkward. Despite getting to know some of the key members of the company on your trip to Reim, you still didn’t feel comfortable joining any of them, surrounded as they were by people. Besides which, you convinced yourself that you were too tired to socialize anyway.

“What are you doing sulking in the corner?” Sinbad suddenly seemed to materialize in front of you like an unwanted ghost. “The world is too ugly a place for a pretty lady like you to hide in the corner.”

You snorted. “What does that even mean?” Sinbad draped an arm around you, leaning in close. He smelled like alcohol and seawater. Not a bad combination, actually, but you wrinkled your nose anyway. 

“It means you should relax and enjoy yourself with me,” He winked at you, snuggling you in close. 

“Sinbad, you’re as disgusting as usual.” A beautiful girl who looked to be a few years younger than you approached you. She had the most delicate looking pink hair; you couldn’t help but stare. “Why don’t you go flirt with someone else? She’s clearly not interested.”

Sinbad grinned easily, winking at the girl. “Why? Are you jealous Serendine?”

Serendine blushed a furious red; her eyes narrowing like a cat’s. “N-No! I’m just saying that you’re bothering her!” 

“You have got to stop showing me such an adorable side of you,” Sinbad teased her, brushing past you to join the party once more. “It’s irresistible,” he threw over his shoulder. 

“Bastard,” Serendine muttered under her breath. 

“Tell me about it. I was stuck on a ship with him for a week.”

Serendine looked horrified at the mere thought. “I am so sorry,” she told you with a grin. “It must have been awful.”

At least Sinbad was good for something, you thought as you chatted with Serendine. He made a common enemy for you and your new friend. 

 

The next few weeks fell into a routine, something you never dreamed you’d have again. You woke up in your own bedroom, washed, and got dressed before heading to the small, paper filled room where you would spend the majority of your day sorting papers, filling out forms, sending papers you couldn’t sign to Ja’far or Sinbad, and managing the books for the company. 

As one of the few people who could read, write, and do arithmetic speedily, Ja’far quickly came to view you as an apprentice of sorts, and he also began to teach you about the Reim economy. It wasn’t easy, but you were amazed to find that you had fun.

You ate lunches with Serendine and her friends. Everyone in the company seemed to be kind and welcoming to you. Once you got over your initial shyness, you found yourself making new friends left and right.

Of course, their friendships came at a price. Whenever anyone asked about your past, you were forced to lie to them. You weren’t concerned with being found out because you had already spun a workable story during your time with Sinbad and the other on the ship to Reim; but every lie came with emotional baggage. Eventually you felt like you were carrying lead weights with you everywhere you went, adding another pound for every lie you told.

Sometimes, it was a relief when the break periods ended and you could bury yourself in numbers and letters in order to escape your guilt.

One morning, you were working the numerical values of stocks for certain industries, trying to deceiver if the companies were over or under valued and whether it would be smart to invest in them. A sudden knock broke your concentration and you looked up, slightly irritated, at the person responsible for the disruption.

“Yes?” You asked coolly.

“E-Excuse me,” replied the young boy who stood at the door. “I-I was told to tell you to go to Mister Sinbad’s office.”

Sinbad? You frowned, tapping your quill against your chin. What would Sinbad want with you? After you had joined the company, it didn’t seem he had any interest in you other than the occasional flirt. It had stung, somewhat, to realize his unrelenting attention on the ship had just been circumstantial instead of genuine. Then you had mentally kicked yourself. Of course it was circumstantial! You barely knew each other! Moreover, you had been lying to him from day one. There was no future there.

While your new job at the company had impaired your search for a caravan heading north, you still continued to look on your days off, hoping to leave Sinbad and your lies behind so you could start a new life. You didn’t even want to keep your name. You thought that maybe, if your shed your name, you could shed the pain, guilt, and frustration that accompanied it. 

Maybe it was a naïve hope, but it was the only thing that kept you going.

“Miss?”

You blinked, returning to the present. “Oh! I, uh, am really sorry. Tell Sinbad I’m really sorry, but I have to finish this first.”

“He said to tell you to drop everything and go to him.” 

Selfish bastard. 

“Fine then.” You growled under your breath, literally dropping your quill and standing up from the cramped chair. You followed the boy, who looked no older than ten, through the back halls of the company building to the generous office Sinbad had for himself. When you reached the door you turned to the boy with a smile, hoping your frustration with Sinbad hadn’t scared the child too much. 

“Do you work here?” You asked him kindly, dropping to one knee. The boy shook his head. 

“Mommy does.”

“I see. Well then,” you reached into your pocket and gave him a bronze coin. “Here’s some pocket change. Go buy yourself some candy or something.” His eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at the coin in his palm, and then at you, then back at the coin. 

“Thanks!” He leaned forward and kissed you dead on the lips. It was a clumsy, tiny kiss but it stunned you nonetheless. “You’re really pretty, Miss!” He then took off down the hallway, running as if demons were chasing him. You knelt there, frozen, still trying to comprehend what had just happened.

“You little—!” You suddenly jerked upright, realizing that your first kiss had just been stolen by a bratty ten year old. The door behind you jerked open and you saw Sinbad standing there, looking cranky. 

His golden eyes fell on you and his expression lit up like the sun. You blinked, your heart suddenly feeling restricted. What kind of face was that? You pondered, overwhelmed by the sudden kiss and now Sinbad’s shining smile. Why did he look so damn happy?

“Good, you’re here.” Before you could move, he grabbed your hand and pulled you down the hallway, away from his office and out the back door of the company building. He ignored your stunned protests and pulled you through the streets until you were standing in the market square, surrounded by throngs of people.

Fragrant spices and the smell of sweet fruits assaulted your nose while the noise and color of the crowd of people astounded your eyes and ears. Markets in Reim were simply overflowing people from all walks of life. 

You forced yourself to concentrate and finally managed to break Sinbad’s hold on you. “Sinbad! What the hell are we doing?”

“We’re taking a break!” he replied gleefully, grasping your hands and dancing around you like a child with a new toy. “I’ve been locked up in that stuffy office for days!”

“Hours.” You countered flatly.

“You have no idea how boring the paper work gets,” he teased, flicking your nose.

“I think I have a pretty good idea,” you replied dryly, thinking back to the last couple of weeks where your job had literally consisted of solely paperwork.

“No one pretty ever visits,” Sinbad finished, giving you a smirk.

“Ja’far will be heartbroken when he finds out you don’t think he’s pretty.”   
Sinbad laughed, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward one of the stalls. “See? This is already so much more fun than paperwork!” He was right, actually. You had never been so glad in your life to stand out in the sun, smelling sweet, fresh fruits that beckoned for you to take a huge bite and let the juices dribble down your chin. But you had your duty. You sighed, disengaging your hand from his once more.

“While, as the head of the company, Ja’far may not be able to fire _you_ for neglecting your work,” you primly informed Sinbad, “ _I_ am far more expendable. I need to get back to work.”

“This _is_ work.” Sinbad caught you again, a roughish grin on his face. “As the head of the Sindria Trading Company, and your current boss, I’m teaching you about the finesse required for trading, bargaining and haggling. Consider it a practical lesson.”

You shook your head, unable to suppress a smile. “I don’t suppose I can refuse when you phrase it like that, can I?”

Sinbad gave you his patent shark-like grin that he reserved for business dealings, gambling, and persuasion. “Of course not.”


	4. Felix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It is you…” Felix gulped, looking like a ghost had walked on his grave. Then he grinned, a wide, bright, sinless grin that made him look years younger. “By the gods, it’s you!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter!  
> Sorry my posting is so sporadic, I'm basically just putting them up whenever I have the time. My homework is kicking my butt :(  
> Comments/questions/complaints?  
> Enjoy!

As you stood by the tomato stand, watching Sinbad haggle, you had to admit that he was a master. 

He knew when to push a price and when he had to let it go. He could tell a good deal from a bad deal with a single look and he often used theatrics to confuse, misdirect, or intimidate his opponents. There was no doubt that those who tried to cheat the purple haired boy were his opponents. There was also no doubt that he came out on top every time.

He offered you a large tomato you had seen him purchase for half the original price. You plucked the big, juicy red fruit from his hands, and bit into it with relish. 

_Mmmm_ …it tasted outstanding. You licked juice from your fingers when you were done, causing Sinbad to laugh at you. You didn’t care. It had been a seriously good tomato. 

As you glanced back at the tomato stand, wondering if you might get another, your eyes met with someone else’s. You held the stranger’s gaze for only a second before recognition washed through you, causing you to gasp aloud. You saw the man recognize you as well, his eyes widening in disbelief. 

A crowd of people walked between you and your gaze was broken, but you didn’t move. When the crowd passed, he wasn’t there any longer. You felt your knees go wobbly. It couldn’t be true. It wasn’t true. Were you hallucinating? It had to be a dream right? If there was one face you never expected to see again, it was his.

“Hey? Hey!” Someone yanked roughly on your shoulders, causing you to yelp in pain. Your left shoulder still hadn’t quite healed. The pain did, however, bring you back from your roiling thoughts to the present. Sinbad was staring at you, his eyes concerned. “Are you okay? You suddenly stopped moving and your face went white. What happened? Did you see a ghost or something?”

“A-A ghost…” you echoed that sentiment, feeling like you had just been struck by lightning. “That’s… surprisingly accurate.”

“What?” Sinbad held his wrist up and pressed it against your forehead like he was checking for a fever. “Are you okay? You’re not making any sense and you feel clammy. Are you sick?”

All his questions went in one ear and out the other; you couldn’t process anything but the man who had shown up before your eyes. You couldn’t believe it. Was it really true? Had he really survived? 

You heard your name being called out. A hand cupped your chin and you blinked, finding yourself staring up at golden eyes and purple hair. 

“Talk to me.” Sinbad ordered, his voice low and soothing. “Tell me something. Anything.”

“I think…” you began with frozen lips, “I think I’m not the only one who survived the storm.”

 

“What?” Sinbad looked startled, he let go of you and reared back slightly. “Are you sure? Did you just see someone you know?” He sent a suspicious glance at the tomato stand. 

“He’s not there anymore,” you replied; panic beginning to build in your chest. “Where is he? I have to find him—”

“Is that really you?” A familiar voice greeted you, sounding as stunned as you felt. You spun to your right, seeing a face that you had thought of as lost forever. 

Compared to the dashing looks of Sinbad, the man before you wasn’t anything special. He had medium length dirty blonde hair and a five o’clock shadow on his jaw. He looked about eighteen, around the same age as you and Sinbad, and had a generous build of muscle. His eyes were beautiful sea green and contrasted with his golden skin. 

“Felix…” You named him, suddenly feeling breathless. Tears popped in your eyes and you wrapped your arms around yourself, worried that if you tried to move your legs you would collapse from happiness. 

“It is you…” Felix gulped, looking like a ghost had walked on his grave. Then he grinned, a wide, bright, sinless grin that made him look years younger. “By the gods, it’s you!”

He jumped forward at the same time you did, wrapping his arms around your waist and picking you up off the ground, swinging you around, before setting you down gently, still locked in an embrace. Around you, a small crowd had gathered to see what the commotion was about. They all cheered and applauded when you and Felix hugged. Clearly they thought they were witnessing a long awaited reunion. 

They were right, you thought dizzily, in a way. It was a reunion, but it wasn’t one you had expected to have in this lifetime. 

“Felix, I never expected to see you again,” You gave him the largest grin you had as you broke apart, sizing each other up. “I was sure that you… didn’t make it.”

“I felt the same way!” Felix replied eagerly, eyes burning brightly. “I was certain you hadn’t made it out, but I kept looking around the Inns at the docks anyway, just in case. I can’t believe I actually found you!” He smiled again, his eyes drinking in your presence as much as you drank in his. “What if you had left before I found you? I would have never seen you again! I’m so glad you’re okay.” Then he focused on the bandage visible underneath the short sleeve shirt you were wearing. “You are okay, right?” Concern poisoned the euphoria in his voice as he scanned you carefully for other wounds.

“She’s okay,” interjected another voice, “but she wasn’t when we found her.” Sinbad stepped forward, placing himself between you and Felix but not blocking your view of each other. You made a triangle of sorts, standing awkwardly in the middle of the market.

“Who’s this?” Felix asked, glancing back and forth between you and Sinbad. “Another recruit?”

“N-No!” You shouted at the same time as Sinbad asked, “Recruit?” 

“She didn’t tell you?” Felix asked, looking even more confused. “About what happened? The plan, the Revolution, the escape?” Sinbad stared at him, his purple brow knitted in confusion and concern. Felix turned to you, looking angry. “You dragged him into this without telling him anything?”

The words bit into your core. You winced, realizing the truth behind them. True, Sinbad was not your recruit nor had you planned to drag him into anything. You had tried to stay distant, actually. _He_ was the one dragging _you_ around. But just staying near him was enough for your enemies. Any friend of yours was a target of theirs. You knew that. 

“He’s not a recruit,” You hurriedly told Felix. “He’s a merchant. And a dungeon conqueror. His name is Sinbad.”

“I think I’ve heard that name,” Felix muttered, appraising Sinbad in a new light. “Dungeon conqueror, huh? You know, a dungeon popped up in Adraine a year ago. The army forbad people from entering after they lost two platoons to it.”

“They were smart to stop at two,” Sinbad mentioned carelessly. “Most countries send more men to their deaths before they stop.”

“Well,” Felix shot you a look, “they didn’t stop because they wanted to. Someone above them issued the command because Adraine needed all the army members it could get.”

“A year ago…” Sinbad mused, a sharp look coming into his eye. “Isn’t a year ago when there was a bloodless coup d’état where the Adraine military disposed of the current royal and replaced her with an oligarchy like structure?”

“Yes,” Felix replied, startled into an answer. Not that Sinbad had really been asking a question, more like confirming a suspicion. You saw a flame of understanding leap into his eyes and your heart sank like a stone. He was too close to a secret you didn’t want to share.

“A-Anyways, Felix,” You broke in, desperate to change the topic. “Did anyone else survive the storm?” A sudden hope rose in your chest, because if Felix had survived then surely…?

Felix shook his head sadly, causing your hopes to toppled down upon you like a backwards wave. “I’m sorry. None of the others survived, just some of the crew and myself. I’m so sorry,” He added softly, as if speaking gently would make the miserable words more bearable. “I miss them too.”

“I see.” You recovered yourself, taking a deep breath, and then forced it out. You smiled at Felix, trying to focus on the positive. “At least you survived, and some of the crew. That’s more than I could have hoped for.”

Sinbad glanced up at the sun with a frown. “We should go,” he spoke brusquely, “Ja’far will be wondering where we went.”

“And whose fault is that?” You muttered under your breath. You glanced over at Felix, feeling guilty you couldn’t stay with your friend. “Where are you staying, Felix? Did you manage to save some money from the storm to get a room at an Inn?”

Felix shook his head dejectedly. “No, we lost it all. But I found a dockside Inn where the manager is letting us work hauling crates and bringing in boats for free room and meals. I don’t think he’d do the same for you, though. If you’re staying somewhere else, stay there. I can always come visit you.”

“Okay, I’m staying at the Sin—“

“Let’s go already!” Sinbad grabbed your wrist and pulled you away from Felix, who you quickly lost sight of in the crowd.

 

“Ow! Hey! Sinbad!” 

At your complaints, Sinbad loosened his grip, but his expression still looked seriously angry. He finally let go when you were standing in front of the Sindria Trading Company’s door. The sunlight was fading in the west, casting blue shadows on the ground around you. You backed up away from Sinbad nervously, rubbing your wrist and shivering slightly in the evening air. Your short-sleeved shirt and thin skirt were plenty warm for the afternoon sun, but as the shadows deepened, you began to feel a chill in your bones.

Or maybe it was a chill in your heart.

“Who are you?” Sinbad demanded, getting straight to the heart of the matter. _Who are you?_ Three simple words, and yet they were so powerful. You looked down at your feet, unable to respond. Sinbad was looking at you like he had never seen you before, and you knew you deserved it. 

“I’ve already told you that,” you replied nervously, afraid he would loose his head again. While it was true he had no space for personal boundaries, he was normally more of a gentleman towards you. You had never seen him look so angry before. “I’m a merchant from Se’ean, traveling on a ship from—“

“Do me a favor,” Sinbad interrupted, “if you’re going to lie, make it believable.”

“Being a merchant isn’t believable?”

“You’re not from Se’ean.” Sinbad stepped forward, staring at you with the golden eyes of a wild cat. You could mentally see him stalking you, weighing his chances and waiting until you were well and truly cornered before going in for the kill. “You’re from Adraine. You were there during the Revolution, when the military overthrew the Queen; your friend Felix mentioned that. And then you were forced to escape for some reason, because you were somehow involved in the Revolution.”

“Everyone in Adraine was involved in the Revolution,” you countered, “The royals, the commoners, everyone.” 

“But not everyone had to run away and lie about who they were,” Sinbad countered coldly. 

“You’d be surprised at—”

“Why don’t you trust me?”

Now he had forced you to confront the heart of another issue. You didn’t trust him. It was nothing personal. It wasn’t as if Sinbad himself struck you as untrustworthy, although he definitely struck you as canny. It was just…

“Why should I?” You challenged belligerently, feeling cornered. “Why should I trust you?”

“Maybe because I saved your life.”

The guilt struck home so hard you thought you had been punched. You gulped, swallowing back words that would do no good, and hung your head. You couldn’t deny his words, as much as you wanted to, because they were true. He had saved your life. But you couldn’t trust him with your secrets.

“You know,” Sinbad spoke gently. He stood in front of you and gently brushed away a tear that formed in the corner of your eye. “One day, I hope that you can trust me.”

You swallowed hard once again, finally finding the strength to meet his eyes. You nodded, forcing yourself to speak. “One day, I think I will.” Your voice sounded scratchy from grief and guilt. Sinbad nodded slowly and tucked your hair behind your ear, giving you a tender smile you had never seen him use before. Then he walked past you, into the trade building.

You looked up at the emerging stars and sighed, feeling defeated. The truth wasn’t that you distrusted Sinbad personally. He just wasn’t an exception to your rule. For example, you had slept with a knife under your pillow at home in Adraine and had felt naked without it on the ship to Reim. The first thing you had done when Ja’far gave you some pocket change a few weeks ago for working overtime was to buy a new knife in the market and stick it under your pillow. So the problem wasn’t that you distrusted Sinbad.

The problem was that you didn’t trust anyone.


	5. Sinbad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Thank you, Sinbad.” You felt oddly formal, sitting next to him in the fading light. He was beside you, and yet when you looked at him, you felt like he was miles away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! WHOOOOAAHHHH!!! I tried to make this one longer, as an apology for failing to upload earlier...   
> A big thank you to all of you guys who have been commenting! It really makes my day and your input is priceless :)  
> Comments/Questions/Concerns?   
> Enjoy!

A few days later, you hadn’t made up with Sinbad yet. 

The guilt was eating away at you, gnawing at your insides with renewed vigor every time you saw his face. You thought about approaching him numerous times, always to apologize and ask for his forgiveness, but two things held you back. 

One was pride. You didn’t want to admit that you were in the wrong, even though you _definitely_ were. If you apologized to Sinbad, it would be like forever cementing in concrete your mistakes. It was stupid and only more painful for you in the end, but you couldn’t help how you felt.

The second reason was more complicated. If you apologized to Sinbad and admitted that you had been lying outright, then the only way to truly mend your relationship with him would be to tell him the whole truth. And you weren’t ready for that yet.

So instead of fixing the bad atmosphere between you, you simply ignored it and continued with your work. If the days weren’t as fun, your lessons seemed dull and empty, and your heart felt cold and hollow, well, that was nobody else’s business, was it? Serendine noticed, as did her friends, but no amount of begging could get you to tell them the truth. What would you say anyway? I’ve been lying to you and Sinbad but I feel really, really guilty for it? You doubted that would solve much.

At lunch, you poked your salad with your fork, still turning over numbers in your head. The company had been extremely busy as of late, and as a result you had tons of extra work. You weren’t frustrated at this turn of events, however. If anything, you were relieved. Extra work meant less time to think about Sinbad.

“You should really learn to respond to your name better.” You glanced up in surprise, looking at Ja’far’s pale, freckled face. 

“Sorry, did you need me for something?” You apologized, yanking your mind from your wandering thoughts. _I really need to be more observant_ , you scolded yourself. 

“Sinbad’s run off on his paperwork again,” Ja’far answered through clenched teeth, “I have to go find him and drag him back kicking and scream—I mean, persuade him to come back—and get him to work on the giant stack of papers on his desk. Honestly,” Ja’far snorted, “He’ll work harder than anyone on anything _but_ paperwork.”  
“That sounds like him,” you agreed, wondering what Sinbad’s childish behavior had to do with you. It sounded like Ja’far was going to hunt down Sinbad himself and you didn’t think he would need your help.

“Anyway,” Ja’far sighed, “I need you to go to the market and pick up these supplies,” he handed you a list, “while I track down Sinbad and beat him within an inch of his li—I mean, persuade him to do his paperwork.”

You took the list gingerly, suddenly feeling very glad you weren’t Sinbad. Ja’far handed you a money pouch as well. “Take this too. These supplies are in the company’s budget, so we use company money to pay for them.”

“Thanks.” You got up and said your goodbyes to Serendine and your friends, hurrying from the company building. If there was one thing you never wanted to do, you reflected, it was get on Ja’far’s bad side. He could be downright scary.

 

The market was bustling as usual.

You used some of your pocket change to buy a few items for yourself while you shopped around for the company supplies. Ja’far had given you enough coins for you to buy everything the company needed at full price, but you wanted to utilize your lessons to get better deals. You were met with marginal success. You managed to knock the price of the quills down a third of its original value, but you got swindled when you bought the ink. 

The sun was still high in the sky after you had purchased everything, so you decided to hang around the market. You liked it there, it smelled wonderful, it was colorful, and it had lots of delicious foods and pretty clothes for sale. 

Around five hours after noon, you were passing an enormous fruit stand that had crates stacked up precariously high above your head. Some men had climbed up on the stack and were carefully trying to place another crate filled with elongated yellow fruit on top. You eyed the crates warily as you passed by them, thinking it would typical of your luck if an avalanche of fruit crushed you.

But before you passed them, the hair on the back of your neck stood up. You stopped and glanced around, wondering why you felt like someone was watching you. Suddenly your gaze caught sight of a handsome boy with long purple hair caught in a ponytail and you felt your heart skip a beat. Then you felt irritated. What the hell was Sinbad doing here?   
Your eyes met and you saw surprise register on his face. You crossed your arms, ready to give him a lecture on doing his work properly. You didn’t know what you expected to happen next. Maybe you thought Sinbad would run away before you could lecture him. Maybe you thought you would break down and tell him the truth you had been hiding for over a month now. Whatever you _thought_ would happen, you hadn’t expected what _did_ happen.

Sinbad’s eyes widen in horror and you felt a shadow of fear pass over your heart. You looked up just in time to see the men who had been hoisting the crate filled with yellow fruit screaming something unintelligible. The box dropped through the air, fruit spilling from the top, and seemed to fall in slow motion until it slammed onto the other crates, causing the entire stack to collapse on top of you.

 

It was dark. 

You were lying down, pinned by something heavy on top of you, a small rock poking into the small of your back. Your head pounded fiercely, and your injured left shoulder was throbbing. A small moan of pain escaped from your lips.

The heavy weight on top of you shifted and you sudden realized that what you felt on top of you wasn’t wood or fruit. Your right hand reached up and you poked something soft and… liquid?

“Ow!” Then you realized what had happened. You were lying down underneath someone who had shielded you from the crates and you had just poked your savior in the eye.

“I-I’m really sorry,” you apologized, aghast with yourself. Then you realized something else. That voice sounded awfully familiar… “Sinbad?!”

“Watch where you’re poking,” groused Sinbad. You couldn’t see him very well, but you were suddenly _very_ aware that he was lying directly on top of you, his arms on either side of your head, shielding you from crates while protecting you from being crushed under his own body weight. You finally recalled what had happened in the few seconds it had taken for the stack to come crashing down on top of you. You had been standing there, unable to move, but Sinbad had tackled you, shielding you with his body.

“You’re an idiot,” you finally spoke again, your voice quivering with anger. “You are the stupidest, most moronic, idiot I’ve ever met.”

“Is that any way to thank the idiot that just saved your life?” Sinbad was teasing you, but you felt him wince. The weight of all the crates on top of him had to be substantial. Through sheer luck, it seemed the boxes had fallen in a dome shape around you rather than directly on you. You didn’t know much about architecture, but you did know that domes had something called a keystone, where all of the pressure keeping the dome up was placed. In this case, the keystone was Sinbad’s back.

You both lay there for a moment, quiet. You could hear shouting around you, muffled by the crates. Some of the crates were pulled back, throwing light onto you. You winced, staring at the surprised faces of some merchants who had obviously thought to find someone dead, not alive.

Then the crates slid, crashing down on each other. Sinbad groaned, collapsing on top of you and causing you to loose your breath. You gasped for air, but the crushing weight of all the crates was too much for you to bear. Lights swam in your vision, dancing to the rattling of your breath as you struggled for oxygen.

Sinbad shifted to the side, alleviating enough pressure so you could breathe. You coughed as he whispered frantically, “Are you okay?”

“Just peachy,” You snapped back, once you had caught your breath. Sinbad sighed, his breath ruffling the hair on the right side of your face. 

“Why are you so angry? You might as well talk to me,” he added, “Since it looks like we might be trapped here while they figure out the best way to pull these crates off of us.”

“Can’t you use your dungeon equipment?” You asked. Sinbad paused. You couldn’t see him but you could tell he was considering your words.

“No, too risky,” he sighed. “By myself, sure. But I can’t risk something happening to you.”

Tears popped in your eyes as you realized he was here, taking the brunt of the crushing weight, because he wanted to save _you_. You, the person he was currently in an argument with. You, the person who refused to trust him with the truth.

“You’re so dumb!” You suddenly shouted, anger rising in your gut, fueled by guilt and frustration. “Why the hell are you here, Sinbad?”

He sucked in a breath in surprise. “What are you—?”

“Why are you here?” Tears pooled in the corners of your eyes. “Why are you here, risking your life for me? Why?”

Sinbad didn’t reply. You could hear his breathing next to your ear, could feel the warmth radiating off of his skin, and could even feel his heartbeat under his shirt. But the one thing about him you couldn’t hear, see, or understand was his thoughts. You had no idea what he was thinking or what he felt. Being so clueless to the intentions of another person had never irritated you as much as it did now.

“I think our rescue is here,” Sinbad suddenly said. You lifted you head, trying to hear past the muffling crates. You could hear grunting, yelling, and the groan of wood. Suddenly, the crates above the both of you were lifted free, disturbing the delicate balance of the other crates.

You yelped as the wood fell down on top of you, but the one who took the hit was Sinbad. Finally, the remaining crates were pulled off of you, and you were covered in a swarm of people who were jabbering at you in multiple languages, pulling you to your feet, brushing you off, and asking if you were all right. You looked over and saw Sinbad receiving similar treatment.

Trying to focus, you took stock of your injuries. Your head hurt, you probably had hit it when Sinbad tackled you. Your shoulder ached, but thankfully, despite the rough treatment it had received, it hadn’t dislocated again. Your right ankle felt sprained and you could feel various bruises, but otherwise you were unharmed.

Because Sinbad had saved you. Again.

 

 

“Are you okay?”  
This time you were asking Sinbad, as you walked over to him. The crowd had finally dispersed once they were assured you both were okay. The men who had been lifting the crates had apologized profusely to you, offering free manual labor and fruits as an apology. Sinbad had actually set up an appointment with them for procuring cheaper fruits for his company later on in the week. You had been amazed. He had nearly been killed only a minute ago, and yet now he was capitalizing on his near death for profit.

He really was a merchant to the bone.

Sinbad turned to face you, his golden eyes warm. “I’m fine,” he replied carelessly. “Just scraped and bruised. But I’m worried about your head.” He reached behind your head and gently touched the bleeding bump swelling up on your scalp. You winced, biting back a groan of pain. “Let’s head back to the company,” Sinbad suggested. “We’re both beat up.”

You walked together down the streets, each nursing injuries. You saw Sinbad favoring his right leg and knew something must have happened to his left one. Your own right ankle was beginning to swell up, making your shoe feel uncomfortably tight. You kept stumbling over your own feet, causing your ankle to ache even more.

After the tenth time you stumbled, Sinbad finally caught your arm and gestured to a low brick wall you could sit on. “Take a rest,” he pulled you next to him and carefully positioned himself on the wall. “We both need it.” You sat down next to him, gingerly prodding your ankle. Every step on it was beginning to burn like fire, making you wonder if you had broken it.

“Thank you, for saving me,” you finally broke the silence between you. You felt guilty, remembering how you had broken down when you realized that you, once again, had caused trouble for Sinbad. 

_She didn’t tell you? About what happened? You dragged him into this without telling him anything?_ The words Felix had said back then were true. You hadn’t told Sinbad anything. You had thought that if you kept him in the dark, it might keep your past in the dark too. You thought that if you kept your head down and your mouth shut, it would be enough. Now, you could see, it wasn’t enough. You had to tell him. You had to let him know what a giant mess you had dragged him into. You had to apologize, beg for his forgiveness, tell him the truth, and then never see him again. If you left now, there might be a chance that whoever was after you would leave Sinbad alone. 

You didn’t think those crates had fallen on top of you by accident. This kind of incident had happened to you before, during your escape from Adraine. Whoever wanted you dead—and you had a pretty good idea who—would like it if you died in a seemingly innocent way, but they weren’t beyond sending assassins to finish the job if the “accidents” failed to kill you. 

The one thing you refused to do was get Sinbad killed alongside you. Feeling resolved, you looked over at Sinbad and then blinked, startled to see he was already staring at you intently. 

“I need to say something you need to hear,” you began slowly. “But… you have to understand… this isn’t easy to talk about.”

For a long moment, neither of you said anything. You knew you needed to tell him, but you didn’t even know where to start. The words had been locked up inside of you for so long, you had no idea where the key was. Sinbad was looking at you expectantly, his golden eyes unfaltering. Your heart collapsed, and the words died in your throat. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t muster the courage to speak.

“I told you, didn’t I?” You glanced up, seeing Sinbad looking at you with understanding. “One day, you will trust me. Then you can tell me.”

He sounded completely confident, as if he had peered into the future and already knew the outcome. His certainty and unshakable confidence amazed you as much as it comforted you. He was like a rock standing in the middle of a raging ocean. You could cling to him, feel safe, and be protected. He alone could change the directions of the currents. He, Sinbad, the man loved by destiny. 

“Thank you, Sinbad.” You felt oddly formal, sitting next to him in the fading light. He was beside you, and yet when you looked at him, you felt like he was miles away. He had always felt real to you before. He felt like another warm, living, breathing, flawed human—not an idol and certainly not a hero. But looking at him now, he looked like something you could strive to reach for a hundred lifetimes and never achieve.

He stood up and held out his hand to you, the picture of a gentleman. You shook your head, standing up without his help, feeling too guilty to touch his hand.   
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, the guilt curdling inside your belly. “I’m so sorry, Sinbad, for involving you in this against your will. You even got hurt because of—”

Suddenly a firm hand grabbed your chin and forced you to look up. You saw Sinbad, face glowing gold in the dying sunlight, his purple hair shimmering, and his expression determined. “Don’t apologize!” He commanded. Your voice was lost in your throat. You closed your mouth, stunned. “Don’t apologize, ever again,” Sinbad ordered in a gentler voice. “You didn’t drag me into anything. _I_ involved _myself_ in this, even though I had no right to. It was my choice and I don’t regret it.” You felt tears slipping down your cheeks as you stared at him, wishing you could find the words to express the tidal wave of emotion swirling in your heart right now. Sinbad gently brushed away your tears with his thumb, cupping your face in both hands. “I wanted to help you, so I will help you.”

_I will help you_. Your pride had kept you from asking for help. You had tried to beat away anyone who might get involved in your life. Others had suffered around you, causing you to isolated yourself, trying to appease your own guilt. Then destiny had interfered. Your ship had been sunk, you had nearly been killed, and this person had saved you. Now this meddlesome, stupid, foolish, childish, noble, brave, wonderful person had promised to help you. You probably couldn’t stop him now if you wanted to.

So you didn’t try. Instead you broke down entirely, crying on his shoulder, allowing yourself to be drawn into his embrace.

 

EXTRA: Later that Night….

When you got back to the company headquarters, your nose was runny and your eyes were red. 

It was late. The moon and stars were high overhead, the sun having gone down sometime while you had been crying like a baby on Sinbad’s shoulder. Looking back on it, you were utterly embarrassed by your behavior. You had exploded at Sinbad, accusing and screaming at him, and then cried your eyes out on him minutes later. You wondered if he thought you were insane. You felt a little insane.

He pushed open the door and held it for you. As you walked in, you noticed three things immediately. The first was that the center room wasn’t empty despite it being after hours. The second was that Ja’far was waiting for you and he looked furious. And the third was that you had completely lost the supplies you had been sent to buy.

Sinbad walked in casually, looking unruffled despite the angry glare sent his way. “Is there something wrong?” He asked curiously, switching his gaze from your face to Ja’far’s. 

You had never seen Ja’far like this. His jaw was twitching from clenching his teeth. A vein was throbbing in his forehead. And his entire body was trembling with anger. You and Sinbad backed away slowly, sensing danger. 

“So this is what you’ve been doing all day, Sinbad?” Ja’far asked in a deadly calm voice. “Skipping work and upsetting my apprentice?”

“J-Ja’far, before you make any assumptions, you should know that… W-wait where did you get that knife? W-wait—!”

You felt sorry for Sinbad.


	6. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The person at the door knocked again. You sighed. You had hoped that you could spend the day sleeping, but you should have known something would come up. “Hold on,” you called, swinging your legs off the bed and getting to your feet. You opened the door and then blinked in surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I have to apologize for posting this wwaayyy after I said I would. Sorry :(  
> But here it is! Slightly edited. I'm sure I missed something.  
> Comments/Questions/Criticisms?  
> Enjoy!
> 
> *just something I thought I should add, there is a bit of blood and violence in this chapter. Like only a tiny bit. But if that really isn't your cup of tea, then here's your warning*

There was a knock on your door. You looked up, surprised. It was the morning after the accident in the market place and Ja’far had given you the day off to recover. You ankle had been wrapped, your shoulder was back in a sling, and your head had been neatly bandaged. Being covered in bandages made you feel rather silly, but Sinbad had insisted. 

The person at the door knocked again. You sighed. You had hoped that you could spend the day sleeping, but you should have known something would come up. “Hold on,” you called, swinging your legs off the bed and getting to your feet. You opened the door and then blinked in surprise.

Felix rushed into the room, snatching you up in a hug. “F-Felix?” You squeaked out an amazed stutter. 

“Thank the gods I found you!” He pulled back, checking you over with his blue green eyes. “Are you okay? I heard about what happened in the market and I was frantic, trying to see if you had been injured…”

“I’m okay,” you smiled at him. You closed the door and locked it, drawing the chain over it for extra protection. “But more than that, I’m concerned.”

Felix stopped dead, staring at you with serious eyes. “What do you mean?”

You told him everything. It felt good to share the lingering worries and fears with someone else. You had been caught in a conflict these past several days between telling Sinbad the truth or not. Part of you wished you could tell Sinbad, but enough of you still couldn’t trust him. You had forgotten that someone who already knew the truth was nearby. There wasn’t anyone, you reflected, anyone in the whole world you trusted more than Felix.

“So you think they’ve found you again?” Felix asked, biting his lip. You nodded, crossing the room to stand by the window that looked down at the bright, bustling city. “That accident at the market was just like them, Felix. They tried similar tricks when we were running from Adraine.”

Felix nodded, “I remember.”

“But,” You rubbed your temples, trying to make sense of something. “What I don’t understand is how they keep finding me. Back home, near the Adraine border, it made sense. Even when we were hiding by the docks, I could accept that their spies had found me. But here? In Reim? They don’t have enough spies here to find me so quickly. Could it have just been bad luck?” 

“I think,” Felix replied, clearing his throat, “I think I know how they found you.”

You turned to face him, leaning on the windowsill. “How?”

“Because I told them.”

For a moment, everything was still. Your mind and body were frozen, trying to make sense of the insensible. Felix had… told them? But Felix was your friend, your trusted subordinate, and your companion. He couldn’t have sold you out to the Adraine Kingdom. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t because…

The knife came tearing down at you, aiming to plunge straight into your heart. Years of training saved your life. You rolled to the side, taking the knife in the left shoulder instead. A scream ripped from your throat as you stumbled backward, legs hitting the corner of the bed and knocking you off balance. Felix tackled you and you slammed onto the mattress, letting loose another blood curling scream as your shoulder burned in white-hot agony.

Voices echoed downstairs and footsteps came running toward your door. You could hear a familiar voice shouting your name. Sinbad…

Felix cursed and grabbed the hilt of the knife, yanking it free from your shoulder. You cried out again, your right hand fluttering around the scattered sheets and pillows as you searched for something. You had to find it…find it before it was too late.

“I’m sorry about this,” Felix straddled you, holding the razor sharp knife to your throat. “But you and your old man never did understand politics.”

Your hand finally closed around what it was you wanted, but you knew it was too late. Felix was already holding the knife to your throat. Your left shoulder was bleeding profusely, causing a scarlet puddle to form on the sheets. You were dizzy, maybe even dying.

The door suddenly rattled in its frame, causing Felix to flinch and take the knife from your throat for a split second. He stared at the door, shocked. 

“What the hell was—?”

He never got a chance to finish his sentence. You stabbed your knife that you had kept hidden under your pillow all these years straight up, under his chin, through his mouth, and into his brain. He made a slight gurgling sound before slowly slipping to the side, lying dead on the scarlet sheets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was anyone surprised? :)P


	7. The Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth behind your past is finally revealed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more mini chapter to go! :)   
> Anyway, comments/questions/criticisms are always appreciated!  
> Enjoy!

By the time Sinbad smashed in the door Felix was already dead. Sinbad had jumped into the room, sword drawn, his face a mask of fury, only to find you sitting up, holding your injured shoulder and staring blankly ahead, a corpse beside you. Others had entered the room behind him and they broke out jabbering, asking questions you couldn’t even hear, let alone answer.

All you could do was sit on the bloodstained bed and stare at the wall. Sinbad sheathed his sword and crossed the room to sit next to you on your right side, opposite of Felix’s corpse.

“Hey. Hey, look at me.” Gentle hands turned your head and you looked at Sinbad blankly, unable to muster any emotion. For a moment neither of you said anything. Then he looked at your shoulder, his face growing pale. “You’re hurt.”

You said nothing as he yanked off the case of a pillow and pressed the cloth hard against your shoulder in an attempt to staunch the bleeding. You couldn’t think of anything to say even when Felix’s body was carried away from your room. You could only face the wall and wonder why you bothered surviving in the first place when it only meant you had to feel so much pain.

“Hey. Say something,” Sinbad’s voice was dangerously close to begging. He pressed the blood soaked pillowcase harder against your shoulder, biting his bottom lip. “Please say something. Anything.” You were touched by how worried he sounded. “Please.”

“He was my friend.” The only words you could say were those. Felix was your friend and you trusted him. He wouldn’t betray you because you trusted him. That had been one of your unshakable truths. It was something so fundamental that you hadn’t stopped to consider why it was true—it simply was. He was your friend and you trusted him.

You didn’t feel any tears. You didn’t feel anything. There was nothing inside of you expect for these tiny, broken shards in your chest. You couldn’t move or speak for fear those shards would puncture the barrier you had placed around them and kill you. 

“He was my friend,” you repeated. Your vision was growing blurry around the edges and your head felt light and odd, as if it were stuffed full of cotton. Sinbad was saying something to you, but you couldn’t hear him anymore. 

“I trusted him,” you said softly before fading into unconsciousness. 

 

You opened the door to Sinbad’s office. 

Inside, various people were gathered on couches and chairs, some leaning up against the walls. They all looked up at you, each with concern etched on their faces. You swayed slightly as you entered the room, but a familiar, sturdy hand caught you. You looked up at Sinbad tiredly, with a wry smile.

“Good evening, Sin.” 

He didn’t smile back. “Are you sure about this? You don’t have to do this now, you know. You lost a lot of blood.”

“That was three days ago,” you asserted. “I’m fine now. And if I stay in bed any longer I’ll go insane. Besides,” you took a deep breath and looked Sinbad dead in the eye, “You have a right to know.”

Sinbad muttered something under his breath about stubborn women, but he led you to his desk and eased you into his comfortable chair. Everyone in the room, Mystras, Hinahoho, Ja’far, Serendine, Drakon, and few of Sinbad’s other trusted advisors, turned to face you. _No pressure_ , you told yourself.

“So as you probably may have guessed by now,” you took a moment to steady your voice. “I’m not who I said I was.” Thankfully no one looked too surprised. Sinbad must have briefed them before you came in. Or you were a really bad liar.

“I’m from the Kingdom of Adraine, not Se’ean. My father was the Captain of the Royal Guard. We worked for and protected the royalty of Adraine, and I was expected to follow in his footsteps one day and become Captain. I grew up at court there,” you smiled, remembering days spent in the hot, sultry sun running around with the children of nobles, playing games and teasing the guards. “For a long time, my life was good. I was trained and educated under my father’s guidance. When I was fifteen, I was already a Lieutenant in the Royal Guard.” You paused, trying to keep your voice from quivering. “Then the King of Adraine died and the Queen…the Queen had always been weak in her mind, but after the King died she went truly insane. Nobles fled from court, terrified of the mood swings that possessed the Queen. She could go from elated to furious in seconds, without any warning. No one could deal with her.”

“Worse yet,” you recalled with horrible accuracy, “she had the power to act on her insane impulses. I once knew a Duchess who was executed by the Queen for not complimenting the Queen’s shoes. Anything could set her off. Her insanity couldn’t have come at a worse time, either. The people were already growing discontent with the monarchy. The Queen’s ridiculous commands were only adding fire to the flames. Finally, my father decided that we had to get rid of her.” You remembered how serious he had looked when he had grasped your arms and told you that this was your duty as a member of the Guard. 

“We spent two years rallying all the nobles to our cause. My father used every tactic he had: blackmail, bribery, persuasion, anything. I helped him as best I could. I think I was the only one he entrusted the whole plan to. Eventually, we had all the major nobles as our allies. The people were ready to revolt, but we presented a bloodless solution to appease them. We, the Royal Guard, with the backing of the nobles, would overthrow the Queen and establish a temporary military command while a new system of government was put into place. We already knew we wanted a republic and we had everything set up so that we could make the switch in less than a year.”

“Then Father died.” You swallowed hard, forcing back your emotions. “And I was left to complete the plan alone, which I did. We were successful. The Queen was bloodlessly overthrown, the new Republic was being established, and the citizens were overjoyed. Everything had gone exactly as planned. But then, a royal emissary from a neighboring country was brutally murdered in the palace.”

You remembered walking in on the scene, nearly vomiting when you saw the bloodstains smeared on the bed, the canopy, and all over the walls. The body had barely been recognizable. “We had no idea who had murdered him then, and I still don’t have any evidence now. Around the same time as the murder, however, some of the nobles were voicing their discontent at becoming commoners. They wanted to establish an oligarchy and have the power to rule split among them. I, as the acting head of Royal Guard, was their biggest obstacle. I had the power of the common people on my side and they couldn’t outwardly oppose me.” 

“When the murder occurred and no killer could be found, it was a catastrophe for many reasons. The emissary killed was a cousin of foreign royalty, so our neighboring nation placed a lot of stress on us to catch the killer. It was a huge blemish on our new government too; our inability to catch the murderer of such an important person showed how weak and ineffectual our new government was. The military took the brunt of the fallout, especially the Royal Guard. As acting Captain, I was under a lot of scrutiny.”

You sighed, remembering the days when the tension was so thick you had thought you could cut it with a knife. “The situation just kept deteriorating. Finally, the nobles came up with an idea and I was desperate enough to go along with it. I couldn’t let our country go to war with our neighbors,” you added, trying to explain your reasoning. “We would have lost everything we had fought so hard to gain. So instead,” you grimaced, “I became the scapegoat.”

Shocked silence filled the room. Everyone stared at you expectantly, held in thrall by the horror of your story. “I took the blame for the murder of the emissary. There wasn’t enough evidence to convict me, but with my false confession, I was brought before a court. The nobles had convinced me to claim the credit for the kill so that our country could avoid war. It was the only way. But I knew,” you scowled, remembering the nobles’ smug faces as they had repeatedly told you, _this is your duty_ , “I knew that they really just wanted me out of the way.” 

“I was convicted of killing the emissary and my punishment was supposed to be a death sentence. But the people rebelled against it. They made enough of a fuss that the nobles were forced to change it to banishment instead. So I was exiled from Adraine.”

You sighed. “That wasn’t enough for the nobles. As an exile, I could eventually come back and head an opposition against them. I still had the support of the common people—if I ever came back alive, they could rally to me. So the nobility sent assassins after me. At first they tried to make it look like an accident,” you gave Sinbad a meaningful look, “But eventually they grew impatient and I grew desperate. Some subordinates from the Royal Guard had gone into exile with me and I was afraid for their lives. F-Felix was among them.” Saying his name hurt more than you thought it would but you continued on with your story, determined to finish.

“I couldn’t stay anywhere near Adraine so I took a ship to Reim, hoping to leave the assassins behind me. Of course, that didn’t work out as I had expected,” you smiled bitterly. “I don’t know when Felix turned against me or why he wanted to carry out the will of the Adraine nobles. He took those secrets with him. But I think he was their last shot at ending my life. Adraine has little power beyond its borders and no power beyond the sea. That’s why they were forced to send an assassin with me. Their plan probably would have worked, too, if luck hadn’t interfered when that storm capsized our ship. But,” you paused, catching Sinbad’s steady amber gaze and holding it, “Our ship did sink. And the rest of the story you already know.” 

You finally finished and let out a deep breath. 

EXTRA: Serendine

After you had finished your story, the room fell silent for a moment or two. Everyone stared at you in confusion, like dreamers rudely jerked awake. Then they began to look back and forth from you to each other, clearly unsure of what to say. 

_And what could be said to that_? You thought. You felt raw and naked in front of these people, like your skin had turned clear and everyone could see your pulsing heart and purple veins. The feeling was unnerving.

You glanced at the door and decided to make a break for it. You couldn’t stay in this room any longer, laden as it was with your words. You needed some air and your friends needed to talk without you. You stood up, causing some people to flinch in surprise, and began to hurriedly make your way to the door.

“Wait.”

Serendine stood up in one fluid motion, her face hard with determination. She marched across the room and stood in front of you with her arms crossed, blocking the exist. You gulped, suddenly terrified. Serendine’s expression was completely unreadable, but her body language was tense.

“Serendine, before you say anything, I think I owe you an—“ you began, thinking you should apologize before anything else was said. Instead you were cut off before you could finish by a sudden, pinching pain on your forehead. It took you a second to realize she had flicked you.

“W-wha—?” You stuttered, one hand reaching up to touch your forehead.

“That was for being pigheaded and trying to solve all of your problems on your own,” Serendine told you. She made a sudden movement and you froze, expecting a slap. Instead you were engulfed in a soft embrace. “And this is for not being able to help you,” she told you softly, her voice filled with sympathy. “I’m sorry for being so useless. Thank you for trusting me with the truth.”

Tears filled your eyes and you rested your head on Serendine’s shoulder, letting her comfort you like a mother would a child. You had lied to her, had tricked her, had used her, and yet now Serendine was comforting you like she was the one at fault. You hugged her back, feeling moist tears running down your face. 

“I-I’ve turned into a c-complete crybaby,” you hiccupped, unable to keep your heart in check. You had locked away your feelings for so long. Now the bottled up emotions came running out all at once, crushing you under their weight. You sobbed into Serendine’s shoulder as rage, frustration, sadness, regret, and an overwhelming love raged through you. You weren’t even sure why you were crying; if it was because of the guilt you felt from lying, the relief you felt from being forgiven, the hurt you felt from being betrayed by Felix, or a combination of all three. All you knew when you finally drew back, wiping your eyes and nose, was that you had never appreciated Serendine like you did now.

“It’s okay to be a crybaby every once in a while,” Serendine told you gently, with a wry smile. “I used to think that showing my emotions made me less of a warrior, but recently I’ve found that holding back my feelings has only made me less of a person. Be proud of your tears,” she placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, smiling at you with her beautiful, pink eyes. “They prove that you’re human.”

“Wow,” you teased her, your voice hoarse from your sobs. “For someone so young, that almost sounded wise.”

Serendine blushed a furious red, letting you go and avoiding your gaze, “I-I’m not that much younger than you!” She exclaimed, “I’ve learned some wise things!”

“Thank you,” you gave her a quick hug. You felt as if a giant weight had been removed. You drew back and gave her a bright grin. “Thank you. I…” you stepped away and opened the door before turning around and giving the entire room a smile, “I need some air.” Then you slipped out before anyone could stop you.


	8. The End Is Just The Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the end of the story, but the adventure goes on

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cheesy chapter title, I know. I have no excuses ;)P  
> So this is it. I finally finished a fic...... wow. A big thank you to all the lovely people who commented! You all made my day. I really hope you guys liked this; I know I had a blast writing it :)   
> Comments/questions/criticisms?  
> Enjoy!

“That was one hell of a story.”

You turned to face Sinbad, glancing at his form half hidden in the evening darkness. Thin, wispy clouds covered the moon, but you could see well enough from the starlight to make out his mane of purple hair and his bright golden eyes. 

“Sometimes I question whether or not I really lived through it,” you replied wryly. You were standing outside the company building, staring up at the stars and wondering if these same stars were visible from Adraine. Were these stars smiling down on your home nation? A brief strain of melancholy echoed in your heart. Reim was amazing, but a part of you would always be called south, you realized—south where your home was waiting, so close, but so far.

“I know how you feel,” Sinbad chuckled, standing beside you. “When I was writing my books about my adventures, I was a little amazed I had lived through them as well.”

You snorted. “Don’t lie, Sinbad. You always knew you would live through them.”

You couldn’t see him, but you imagined he was grinning. “You caught me.”

A warm hand reached out and touched your own, gently intertwining your fingers together. “I can’t imagine how much it hurts to never be able to go home,” Sinbad told you softly, “nor can I imagine your pain when the one person you trusted the most in the world betrayed you. But I’m glad you could finally tell me your story.”

“I’m glad too.” You squeezed his hand and then withdrew your grip somewhat reluctantly. You turned to face him, suddenly fearful of how he would reply to your request. “Sinbad…” you hesitated. “I remember you saying that to help people like me was your dream. I remember you saying that you would help me,” you smiled briefly, “and you did. So I suppose, by all rights…” you took a deep breath. “Our adventures together end here.”

Sinbad stared at you in silence, his face blank. His eyes scanned you, trying to find something hidden in your expression. 

“If that’s how you feel—” he finally began, his voice quiet. You held up your hand.

“It is.”

“Then I’m going to have to tell you no.” You blinked, startled. Sinbad grabbed you and pulled you in close. “I don’t want my adventure with you to end here, because I still think that we’re tied together by destiny. Our time together won’t end now.” His voice carried the same unshakable certainty as always. You felt more tears popping out of your eyes, but they weren’t tears of bitter sadness. They were tears of joy. “It’s not over yet. Not by a long shot.”

You laughed, drew back, and took a shaky breath. “Good.” Now it was Sinbad’s turn to look surprised. “Because I feel the same way. I want to stay by your side until you fulfill your dream. I want to be there when that happens. So, Sinbad,” you smiled at him as the clouds broke away, revealing the full brightness of the silver moon, “Will you let me adventure with you?”

He grinned down at you, the very picture of cockiness.

“Of course.”


End file.
